


Only You

by Sneakyfox55



Series: What The Soul Wants [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Like Lots, Lots of Crying, Reader is good friends with Papyrus, Reconciliation, Self-Esteem Issues, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, anti-cliches?, ha you thought, is that a thing?, papyrus is a sweetheart, sans is kind of a jerk, soul cracks, twistssss, unintentionally but still, you're not Sans's soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24634615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneakyfox55/pseuds/Sneakyfox55
Summary: You knew how it would go, despite everything. Despite giving the relationship your all, it was bound to break, for one simple reason:You're not his soulmate.So it's time to stop pretending that you are.
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader, Sans/Original Undertale Character(s)
Series: What The Soul Wants [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789591
Comments: 31
Kudos: 191





	1. Fracturing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [armelle22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/armelle22/gifts).



> (PLEASE READ THE TAGS FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS)
> 
> this is basically inspired by all the other "Reader is not soulmate" sad fics, except i put my own spin on it >:3
> 
> also yes this is a gift because i appreciate all the support armelle has given me and i hope they like this :)

It had only been a matter of time--you knew that. _Gods_ , did you know that, you weren't blind or _dumb_ to that fact.

But apparently, despite that, despite assuring yourself that it wasn't _permanent_ , you still manage to _hurt_. Somehow you're _still_ naive, you're _still_ an idiot; and nothing you can say or do will help that.

Right now, you're just... Waiting. For what, you're not sure.

He had been in and out earlier, just to let you know he was going out with her. Nothing more, nothing less. You've already met her, you're really not surprised, you're just...

...It's...

You don't know what it is.

He'd been uncomfortable when talking to you. Clearly, he doesn't want to be with you anymore--that was obvious from the beginning of this, but, somehow... 

You really shouldn't care this much. ~~You know _he_ doesn't. You know he'd rather be with his _soulmate_ , not you.~~

But it still hurts. You don't want it to hurt.

_You don't want this._

Because you can't help yourself, you curl up into a ball on the couch, tucking your legs in closer to you as your body starts shivering with sudden ~~pitiful~~ sobs. It shouldn't hurt, you keep telling yourself. It _shouldn't_.

_It was bound to happen, just because it's been so long doesn't mean anything, just because he promised--_

Through your cries you almost don't hear your phone going off. For a split second you're scared; it's probably him, inevitably pretending like he _does_ care and asking if you're okay ~~when you're most certainly not, anyone can see that~~.

But when you read the number, it's not him. It's his brother, Papyrus. Your friend.

You answer, despite your better judgement. (He's probably just going to berate you, probably be on _his_ side.)

"Hi," you croak out, sounding about as terrible as you feel.

There's a pause, and you think he's going to hang up, but...

"Do you... Need anything?"

...?

What?

"N-no," you say, automatically. Of course, he doesn't buy it.

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe you." He pauses. "If... If you need to talk, or..."

Another, more emphatic "no" leaves your lips. Another pause.

"...Alright. I just... I hope you know none of this is your fault."

_None of it is **his** fault, either, right? Just bad circumstances, right?_

"He should be more understanding," he goes on, a bit firmly, surprising you slightly. "I'll talk to him."

"You don't have to..." you cut in meekly.

"I _should_. He is being inconsiderate of your feelings; I doubt he means it but _still_ , I am--"

"I have to go."

You didn't want to be so abrupt. You hadn't meant to interrupt, but...

It hurts. You don't want to talk about this anymore, you _can't_ , you're--

"Oh," he says, sounding concerned--why is he concerned, why does he _care_ \-- "Well, um... Call... Call me if you do need anything, okay?"

You hesitate.

"Please... Take care of yourself."

He says it so quietly, you're not sure you were meant to hear it.

"...Okay," you say, anyway. Neither promising, nor denying.

Then you end the call.

* * *

You've locked the doors to your apartment. You've locked yourself in the bathroom. You've stopped paying attention to any phone calls or messages you receive.

It...

It hurts too much.

Something in your chest, deep inside, is breaking apart.

You don't care what it is.

You've tried redirecting the pain, instead. To a part of you that's less significant. It worked, at first.

Now you're just numb.

Your arms are sore, but numb.

You consider doing something else. Something more permanent.

~~You're not needed.~~

~~Nobody will notice.~~

Then your phone makes a noise, signaling you've gotten a new text. You don't see what it is, or who it's from, but...

Somehow, you're brought back to reality.

Somehow you don't do it.

Instead, you leave the bathroom and try to turn in for the night early.

You end up reading the text while in bed.

It's Papyrus, again.

 _Good night!_ it reads.

Your arms are sore. So is your soul.

Everything hurts.

...But you'll heal.

Eventually.


	2. Mending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so technically this is the end but!
> 
> there will be multiple endings sorta (or at least a couple that i can think of)?? which will be featured in a part two fic
> 
> and this is probably the closest you'll get to a happy ending here,
> 
> enjoy it while it lasts
> 
> (credit goes to armelle22 for inspiring me!! they're the best! <3)

You wake up with a pounding headache, red flashes of pain charging through your head ~~and chest?~~ At first, when you recall previous events, hope swells within you as you briefly consider it to be a dream, but...

You go to check your phone.

And he still hasn’t responded.

Almost bitterly, you laugh to yourself; granted, it can hardly be considered a laugh, with how quiet and hoarse your voice is right now. It’s more like a cough, you think.

...What does it matter, really, whether you laugh or cough or even cry.

~~You’re not worth anything.~~

~~Not worth him.~~

Despite yourself, you get up out of your bed, bringing a change of clothes with you to the bathroom. You vainly wish a shower will make you feel at least a bit better, in that you won’t be gross anymore.

Well, you’re clean afterwards, at least. Not that it will make a difference, but still.

Once you go back to your bedroom, you look at your phone again.

There’s a new text from him, this time.

...You don’t read it.

Instead, you make the most impulsive decision you’ve ever made:

“ _im done”_ is what you type to him.

You’re just...

Done with this.

That’s all there is to say.

If he can’t even bother to let you off easy, then might as well do it yourself.

* * *

Sans reads your message, and the first thing he can think of to do is huff out a laugh.

Not a real one. Don’t get him wrong.

It’s just...

Life’s funny, that way.

Everything is funny.

It’s a joke.

He’s a joke.

You’re... Not a joke.

And yet...

...He’s treated you like one.

So.

That in of itself,

is funny to him.

He blew it.

He could turn this around, just call you right now.

He shouldn’t have avoided you in the first place.

But it was fate.

And Fate’s got a _sick_ sense of humor.

His soul is connected to hers. Always will be, in some form.

 _However_.

Suffice to say, Sans isn’t usually a fighter.

He and Fate have a long-time rivalry, though...

So _no_ ,

he can’t just leave you behind, simply because Fate _wants_ him to.

He _knows_ he blew it with you—he knows he’s been an absolute jerk, and idiot, and most certainly a _coward_ because he thought this would be _better_ , he thought this would be what he _wanted_.

It’s not. He realizes that now. Fate can suck it. He doesn’t even know her that well. (Not like you.)

He’d decided to just be friends.

In another timeline, maybe, they could have even been a thing.

...But he doesn’t want his soulmate.

His soul wants you.

 _Only_ you.

* * *

For the first time since you can remember, you eat breakfast alone. You’d turned on the radio to drown out the silence, but surprise surprise—it doesn’t work well.

Papyrus _has_ been texting you on and off, and you appreciate it.

It’s just... Not the same.

You hate admitting that; admitting you’re selfish.

You always have been.

~~That’s probably why he left you, didn’t he?~~

Yet, you can’t help it.

Before you know it, you’re laughing again, drily. You try to think of funny things to be laughing about, maybe a joke or two, to make it more real—prevent it from derailing.

Of course, you’re not good at hiding your emotions.

Much too soon, your chuckles break off into tears.

And it only gets worse when you feel something sharp in your chest.

You sit at the table, your elbows pushing into the wooden surface painfully, sobbing into your hands until you’re gasping for breath.

Another twinge in your chest.

You don’t stop.

_Why are you never good enough?_

You can’t be.

_Why can’t you just be happy for him?_

You’re selfish.

_Why does she get to have him?_

You don’t deserve him.

_Why?_

You’re not enough for him.

_WHY?_

_You’re worthless._

Your breath hitches.

Something in you is fracturing.

You hear a knock on the door, and you try to get up.

You collapse from the chair onto the floor. Darkness starts blurring your vision as you simply lie there, unable to do much more than gasp and tremble.

_You’ll never be good enough._

Deep inside you, you hear cracking.

...

Then you hear a small whoosh.

And suddenly, you’re not sitting on the floor anymore. You’re resting against something, another pair of something’s wrapped around your shaking body, holding you close and tight.

Whatever it is you’re embracing is comforting. Soft. Gentle.

You still somewhat, upon realizing a certain sound has gone away: the cracking.

All you hear now is your own shallow breathing. (And someone else’s...?)

You realize that same thing you’re holding onto is shivering, just as you are.

No, it’s... Someone.

And they seem to start panicking once you’ve grown still, their words coming out short and incoherent in their haste; you barely make them out. Your eyes are starting to slide shut.

_“no, no, n—stay with me, st—”_

But you’re tired.

You want to rest. Your soul wants...

_“—you can’t—”_

What’s the point. No one needs you.

“—i need you!”

Your eyes shoot open, mostly out of confusion.

Who...?

...Wait...

Slowly, you shift, just a bit—and immediately you feel his entire body sag in relief, his skull bumping lightly against the top of your head.

“oh _thank_ _God_ , i thought...”

“Sans...?”

You try to move away, utterly bewildered. ~~This has to be a dream, right? He’s not actually here. He’s with...~~

“y-yeah, it’s—it’s me,” he breathes out, still holding onto you almost desperately, like in the next instant you’d disappear.

“I-I don’t underst—what are you doing here, I thought you—”

The pain is starting up again, and as though he can sense it he quickly presses one of his hands against your cheek, trying to sooth you. “no, i—i did but...”

“But what?”

Your voice cracks.

“You left me.”

Sans falters.

His arms drop to his sides, allowing you to get away. Clearly expecting you to.

You stay, looking up at him—hurting, but not backing down.

“i...”

~~He’ll say an excuse.~~

~~An excuse involving you—how you’re not meant for him, how you’re not good enough, how—~~

“i know. i know there’s—there’s no reasonable excuse, i _know_ but...”

...What?

Your brows raise slightly.

“i’m sorry,” he chokes out and, for the first time, you notice there’s tearstains on his own cheeks. “i—i never wanted to hurt you. i... i just had to—to figure things out—i know that’s dumb and...”

He’s just running his mouth by this point.

So you interject,

“What’d you figure out, then?”

You don’t expect a good answer.

He’s only here because he pities you. Because he feels bad, not because he _wants_ to truly be here.

_Go ahead. Say it._

_Say that he doesn’t love you anymore._

“i don’t love her.”

Sans’s voice is shaky—but he’s noticeably firm. Sure of himself.

Before you can help yourself...

“Why?”

“i can’t.”

What...

What does he mean he _can’t_?

She’s his _soulmate_ , how—

“i love you.”

...No.

“N—no!” you blurt, “that doesn’t—that doesn’t make sense, she’s—she’s _meant_ for you, _she’s_ the one that’s—”

“i don’t _care_ ,” he affirms, “i’m not gonna go off with her just because i’m ‘meant to.’ regardless of who she is i don’t even really know her.”

“But...”

“i love _you_.”

This... Doesn’t make sense, he’s...

You’re not his...

_You’re not worth anything to him._

“I—”

You’re cut off as one of his hands tentatively grabs your own; when you don’t try to pull away, he carefully entwines his fingers with yours.

“you’ll always be worth something to me,” he says softly, his eye-lights bright and earnest.

You merely stare back.

“i’m...” His grin slips, and he looks away, suddenly pulling his hand back. “i-i’m sorry i wasn’t... trying to prove that sooner.”

Silence.

“...i can... i can leave, if you want me to. you still want to end things off, right...?”

He’s been a jerk. He left you when you were clearly hurting.

You know you have every right to listen to that. To follow through.

...You... Also know he’s not perfect.

And soulmates... Aren’t easy to come by.

He made a mistake. Technically a big one.

But...

“No.”

He looks back at you, seeming almost scared. And simultaneously confused, like you’d been before.

But nobody is perfect.

And, you do love him, despite everything.

So you smile.

“We can... We can try again, if, um... You still want to...?” (Maybe you _are_ worth it. Maybe, even if he doesn’t want to...)

He brightens.

You let yourself be pulled into an embrace again, his arms wrapping around you just like always, his teeth nuzzling into your hair,

and in that moment, you know he loves you too—soulmate or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *does evil hand wringing thing*
> 
> like i said,
> 
> enjoy this ending while it lasts~

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cracking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753457) by [armelle22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/armelle22/pseuds/armelle22)




End file.
